prison is just a word— and it can burn in hell for all i care

by aprettybadjoke

Chapter 6: velvet

Summary:

all destined souls are fated to meet under the veil of blue velvet

Notes:

I'M BACK I'M FINALLY FREAKING BACK

As some of you may or may not be aware, I moved college back in early August, which has quite literally been sunshine and rainbows, but also a wee bit (extremely) chaotic. Thus, I haven't really had great moments to really sit down and just write, but I managed to fall into enough a hapazard routine to finish up this last chapter! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and waiting thus far, I hope this chapter is worth it for you guys!

(also as a bit of an apology for taking so long with this chapter... I've added a little snippet of an original song that I've spent the past 5-ish hours working on in beepbox because I am ✨sick✨. It's part of a bigger side project I've been haphazardly working on in my free time :] it is by far the hardest song i've made to date, so i would appreciate it if you let me know what you think... if you want to, of course)

 

Ren awakes to a room tinted in blue.

 

It’s not quite like the one he became so familiar with, though. As he looks around, however, it becomes increasingly clear that it perfectly models the train that he’s currently on, yet it can’t possibly be the same train for Okina that he had boarded. 

 

(Let us have a look around.)

 

My thoughts as well.

 

All of the windows are clouded, blurring the outside world into an incorrigible gradient of blue and white. No one occupies any of the seats on the train— which isn’t that odd, since there already weren’t a lot of people on board to begin with. But it also gives rise to the suspicion that this is no ordinary dream that he’s having.

 

When he meanders his way to where the conductor’s car should be, it instead opens up to a large stage complete with blue lights and curtains and audience seating. An ornate, navy blue piano sits in the center, a slumbering melody emanating from its glimmering keys. A soft blue spotlight shines down on the instrument, revealing a figure sitting on the bench. His purple hair appears almost ultramarine in the lighting, but Ren can still tell who it is just by that alone.

 

Is that…

 

“...Todou?”

 

The man’s head lifts up from the grand instrument, his face lighting up with recognition even as he continues to play.

 

“Ren-kun,” he greets, nodding at the teen with a relaxed smile as he transitions the song he’s playing down to a slightly slower rubato. “Good to see you made it.”

 

Ren wants to complain, but Todou hasn’t done anything (yet) that would make him deserving of such complaining, so he refrains. “Right…” He actually wants to ask him a question, but he may start spouting off cryptically connected bullshit again… It’s good to hope that he doesn’t, right? “But I made it… where, exactly?”

 

“Mm…” Todou briefly pauses, making a so-so motion with his hand before adding it back into his mesmerizing movements on the keyboard. “It’s… on the path to the Velvet Room.”

 

Wow, a real answer this time. I think.

 

“So, it’s the place between… the place between dreams and reality.”

 

“Yep.”

 

Better to take it at face value than try to think about the technicalities of that. “...Right,” Ren nods again, not even trying to think on it further. “But… what are you doing here?”

 

A light smile graces Todou’s face at the inquiry, one that would have been nice if not for his tendencies to be vague, confusing, and generally a bother. “Me? I’ve come to greet you, of course.”

 

…It couldn’t have been anyone else?

 

“Yay,” Ren cheers ecstatically.

 

“You don’t sound very ecstatic about that.”

 

“What gave it away, the joy on my face or the excitement in my voice?” Neither exists on Ren currently.

 

This whole thing is weird… but it’s fitting that the train ride from Tokyo would be just as logic-defying as the one to Tokyo. It sort of serves to solidify the feeling of his journey coming around full circle, ready to begin anew. The only difference between April of last year and now is that Ren has a whole host of experiences— lifetimes, he might even go so far as to call them— under his belt, compared to the frightened country boy struggling to recover from the betrayal and hurt that the legal system had unjustly brought upon him.

 

(Making it this far is no miracle— you are the one who forged your own path to where it is today.)

 

That’s got a pretty heroic ring to it. Although I’m not sure that I would refer to myself as “heroic”. Maybe… reckless? Insane?

 

(Those two things are often synonymous with each other.)

 

…Arséne, you hurt my feelings. You think I’m insane?

 

Ren can almost hear Arséne’s figurative eyebrow raise.

 

(...When did I say that?)

 

“You can call me Naoya, by the way.”

 

“...Huh?” Ren blinks himself out of his thoughts— he should really stop doing that when he’s around people. Especially Todou. “Why would I want to do that?”

 

Todou shrugs, but there’s an odd gleam in his eyes that Ren cannot for the life of him discern the meaning behind. “Meeting twice isn’t just happenstance. I think it calls for us to become more familiar with each other.”

 

His logic… certainly exists. “That’s kind of weird.”

 

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.”

 

“Not if you make it weird first.” Ren raises an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to be familiar with you?”

 

“Well, you haven’t walked away yet. Nothing’s stopping you, so clearly I’m not as much of a creep as you’d like yourself to believe.”

 

Where else would I go if I walked away… I’m on a train.

 

Ren deliberately makes his voice as monotone as possible as he extends his hand. It glows a fluorescent blue as it is brought below one of the nearly ultraviolet blue stage lights. “...Fine,” he sighs. “Nice to meet you, Naoya. I’m Ren Amamiya. Though you already knew that.”

 

Unflappable as ever, Todou— Naoya— takes his hand and shakes it with a relaxed ease. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ren-kun.” His greeting is as if they had never met before, introducing himself to the young man as if he hadn’t already made an impression on him. “…Would you like to hear a song?”

 

I… what…

 

Abrupt topic changes must be programmed deep into the recesses of his personality or something, because this is ridiculous. But hey, Ren will bite. It’s not like he has anything else to do on this train ride to the Velvet Room.

 

“Here, come join me.” Naoya slides over on the bench, making enough room for two people to sit. Ren stares at the empty spot for a few moments, genuinely contemplating on whether or not to take the man up on his request before sighing and taking a seat.

 

“...A song?” Ren asks, because what else can he do?

 

“Yes.” Naoya’s hands lightly brush over the keys, light enough to not cause them to sound. “However, it’s been a while since I’ve touched a piano, much less heard this version, so I might be a little rusty. Hmm… Say…” 

 

Naoya’s looking at Ren with such a striking gaze, very much like he had the first time they’d met. …Oh no, he’s thinking about something.

 

(Worse yet, he has his mind set on something. Or should I say, someone.)

 

Noo…

 

“…How well can you play the piano?”

 

…?

 

(…?)

 

The… piano? What is he up to?

 

“...I know enough to hold my own,” Ren . Though it’s certainly been a while since he’s had the opportunity to play any music on one. “But why are you asking me that?”

 

“That’ll do.” Naoya doesn’t directly answer Ren’s question, instead turning his attention back to the grand piano and its fluorescent keys below his fingertips. "Don’t worry, I’ll start us off. All you have to do is join in when it feels right.”

 

“…Wait.” Ren just realized the word choice. “Us?”

 

Hold on. How am I supposed to join in when I don’t even know the song he’s going to play?

 

“Yes. Us.” Without elaborating further, Naoya promptly closes his eyes and begins playing, and… wow, Ren really is familiar with this song. The key of the song is higher and the tempo is faster, but he knew what it was from the very first chord. How can he not, when he’s heard it countless times over the past year? 

 

“Is this…” Ren starts to ask, but then falters. They both know the answer to the question, so why bother asking it? Still, Naoya gives him the courtesy of a little nod of affirmation, slowing the tempo down just a little bit before picking it right back up into a graceful allegro.

 

What catches Ren’s attention the most is how Naoya doesn’t ever look at the piano keys. As a matter of fact, his eyes stay closed for the most part save for an occasional second that they flutter half-open. Presumably, it’s to recall a part that he’s unsure of, but that uncertainty doesn’t at all translate into the music. And even though he does technically open his eyes, he never looks down at the keys.

 

Only when the song is a third of the way complete (or possibly halfway, this version does seem to be more abbreviated than the one he’s used to) does Ren remember Naoya’s request, and with great trepidation he brings his hands down to the keys.

 

What is he even thinking…? 

 

“Relax,” murmurs Naoya, and Ren will never admit that his voice scared five years off his life away at that moment. But he’s conditioned himself to not let such scares show so easily, so he forces himself to only flit his eyes over to the other guest of the Velvet Room. “Don’t think so hard about playing it right. You already know it.”

 

It doesn’t clear up all of the doubt, but it’s enough to spur Ren into action. The notes he hits… sound right? At the very least, he’s in the right key. He takes note of the keys that he has pressed down and remembers the rest of the notes in the scale, then follows Naoya’s lead, rounding out the chords he’s hitting and eventually adding a slight counter-melody. The more he hits the right notes and adds to the story of the aria, the more confident Ren becomes. It’s a bit awkward when his and Naoya’s hands collide or cross, but Ren tries not to let it disrupt his flow too much, instead just going along with it.

 

Somewhere along the way, Ren accidentally reverts back to the song’s key that he’s familiar with, but by the time he’s aware of his mistake, Naoya has already adjusted without saying a word. The transition of the song’s key is a personification of the bridge that connects the old and new generation of Persona-users— one who has lived long enough to understand the world, and the other whose burning desire to make change blazes a new path.

 

…

 

All too soon, the song crests over its climax and falls back down to a gentle, almost solemn one-handed melody before fading out into the silence of the blue-tinted stage. 

 

“That was lovely,” Naoya smiles, opening his eyes to the world again. “You’re pretty good.”

 

“Thanks, but you were much more impressive than I was.” Ren exhales, pulling his hands back to himself. “You didn’t even have to open your eyes to know where the keys were.”

 

“I was taught by touch, not sight,” Naoya shrugs. “The one who taught me always played with his eyes covered.”

 

Huh. “Was he blind?”

 

“Nope. Just a personal preference.”

 

…Huh. “That’s impressive.”

 

“It’s just a matter of knowing the piano and where the keys are. Hm…” Naoya actually gives the topic some thought, fiddling with his earring as his gaze settles on some nondescript object to his left. “It’s like any other acquired skill. Once you’ve become overly familiar with it, you do the motions without really thinking about what it is that you’re actually doing.” 

 

As he’s talking, his hands start gliding across the piano again, hitting notes and chords seemingly at random but still managing to make music in the form of pure improvisation. “Say you’re an artist who’s been drawing for years,” he continues. “Instead of focusing almost exclusively on the hand that’s doing the drawing, you’d be more focused on achieving the image you’re trying to accomplish and the message you want to convey.”

 

Yusuke comes to Ren’s mind, and suddenly, the example makes a lot of sense. All of his problems had been in relation to the picture itself and the emotions it could incite within someone, not the fundamentals and techniques used to actually create it. People utilize the very same concepts in their everyday lives so often; it's something that’s so deeply incorporated into life that it’s not usually given much thought but makes up the very building blocks of humanity and civilization all the same.

 

“I think I get it,” Ren nods honestly. It’s a logical enough concept, anyway.

 

The next few minutes lapses into a tranquil sort of quiet, nothing but the soft rattling of the subway and a mild breeze from who knows where permeating through the stage. 

 

“We’re almost there,” Naoya speaks up once more, his voice so quiet that it’s barely audible over the piano that he started playing again. “Close your eyes, and allow yourself to be transported to the place within the oasis that lies amidst dream and reality.”

 

Ren frowns. “I don’t trust you enough to close my eyes around you.”

 

Naoya doesn’t seem to mind his hesitancy. “It’ll keep you from getting nauseous, unless you want your first impression in front of everybody to be you projectile vomiting.”

 

“Everybody? What do you mean by ev—”

 

But Ren cuts off his words mid-sentence, because Naoya’s hand is coming towards him way too quickly, and far too close for comfort. Before any rational thought can go into next actions, Ren grabs his wrist to stop it before he can touch him.

 

“Don’t.”

 

There is a chill to Ren’s voice that he had barely believed himself to be capable of until just then, but its sharp chill just barely manages to mask a simple, primal emotion— fear. But it single-handedly seizes every bit of his rationality at that moment and throws it out of the window, and honestly? It’s a miracle that Ren doesn’t flat out break Naoya’s wrist right then and there.

 

Only when Naoya’s face twitches in a near-imperceptible expression of pain does Ren realize that he has the man’s wrist in a circulation-killing grip, and he hastily lets go.

 

“Sorry!” Ren balks, hastily letting go of Naoya's hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

 

“It’s fine.” The way Naoya is nursing his wrist is a very clear indication that it’s not entirely alright, but Ren doesn’t want to ask further. “I should have been more cautious.”

 

Actually, Ren thinks he shouldn’t have freaked out for no reason and shoot from zero to ten in the first place, but he doesn’t say that. “There’s no need. I’m not fragile.”

 

A flash of something odd crosses Naoya’s face, but it’s only for the briefest of seconds, so brief that Ren thinks that he’s mistaken until the man speaks again.

 

“Don’t sit here and pretend that there's absolutely nothing wrong,” Naoya almost hisses, and  oh, it’s quite a double-take to truly understand that he is being completely serious. There’s absolutely no trace of his enigmatic smile anywhere on his face— in fact, his expression is painfully clear, and that’s exactly what makes Ren so anxious for the conversation that’s almost certainly going to happen next. 

 

However, Naoya shrinks back at first, his gaze also locking onto the piano before him that was producing lovely music by his hand up until a few moments ago. From the tentative glance that Ren snuck at him, he appears to be trying to find the right words to say… and that anxiousness rises up just as quickly as it had temporarily fallen.

 

“This more than likely isn’t my place to say this, but…” Even his manner of speaking is drastically different from usual, lacking the teasing musicality that always colored his every sentence. “I don’t want you to make light of your experiences for the sake of others.”

 

Ren’s hands are shaking so bad and— why can’t he think anymore? Why do a few simple words of concern make his entire being freeze up and go into a near-catatonic state? He can do nothing but try to lose himself in the glossy glow of the deep blue piano as a certain nausea builds up and physically prevents him from looking the man in the eye. There are many things that he wants to do right now, and none of them involve wanting anything to do with this conversation.

 

“It’ll all just end up hurting you more and more, until it’s hurt all it can and leaves behind an empty shell of who you once were.” There is such a solemn understanding behind Naoya’s words that it’s borderline numbing. “Call me selfish, but I especially don’t want to see you fall down that hole. It’s hell to climb out of, and you’ll definitely lose something along the way.”

 

Sure, Naoya’s tactics had been… ambiguous at best, and had an overall really roundabout and mildly frustrating way of doing things, but he had never once lied to Ren. And now, he’s dropped all pretenses, baring all of his intentions out for Ren to see. This must be the part of him that helped him gain the trust of Kirijo and the Suou brothers. However, while it may be true that Naoya is indeed a person that’s worthy of Ren’s trust, mindsets that have already planted their roots in his mind make it… difficult to exercise said trust to the fullest.

 

(There is no question about the difficulty of the matter. It is whether you will choose to trust him despite your subconscious reservations.)

 

I know… I know, but I…

 

Perhaps the conflict had been too obvious on Ren’s face, or the shaking of his hands had been too conspicuous, for Naoya speaks up again with a softer tone. “I know it’s not that easy, and I’m not asking you to simplify it into what you should or shouldn’t do,” he exhales deeply, staring at the bruise that’s already starting to blossom in a large ring around his wrist. “But these are the kinds of things that will shape your future. After everything you’ve fought for, you deserve a future not tainted with shadow.”

 

(His words are very much sincere…)

 

The childish urge to ball up the sides of his shirt into his fists and start telling his whole story wells up in Ren— and maybe in a more ideal world, this would have been possible. However, the world that he lives in is no idealistic utopia, and there are things that he can’t bring himself to accept, even if it is practically staring him in the face at this moment. Doubt is like the most potent poison— only the tiniest drop of it is needed to corrupt something pure and whole. Even in the face of Naoya’s sincerity… it’s hard not to have a little doubt from within creep up. 

 

“I… don’t know how I should go about it,” Ren finally answers. It comes out a little choked, too choked for it to be a coincidence. “What are my parents going to say when they find out their son’s technically the most infamous criminal in the country? How am I possibly supposed to tell them that I was this close to never making it back home, or to having their next sight of me be in a casket? How do I tell them all of this wi— without absolutely breaking their hearts?”

 

These are questions that no one but Ren will be able to answer, yet he’s asking them all the same. What’s getting an answer compared to simply being heard? Silence offers answers to no one except to those willing to listen to it, knowing they won’t get anything in return. Perhaps Ren is attempting to find some sort of solace in this grand stage of quietude by his and Naoya’s own making.

 

“...And it's not that I doubt you, Todou-san.” Ren manages to circle back from his tirade, his throat dry and his speaking battery uttelry drained. "I just— I can’t make any promises, because…” The last thing Naoya or anyone else needs are any unrealistic expectations, but Ren also doesn't want to let himself down by taking the easy way out. That’s what he wants to say, at least, but that part doesn’t get to leave him before the words freeze in his throat again. He tries, and then tries again, but he just ends up shaking his head. 

 

When it becomes clear that Ren has said all that he could manage to say, Naoya speaks up once more. “Forgive me,” he murmurs. “You don’t need to take what I said to heart. I was… just projecting my selfish desires onto you.” He takes a pause to let out a self-derisive laugh, running a hand through his hair before resting it on his silver earring. “…Those are the kinds of people you hate the most, aren’t they?”

 

Ren worries at his lip, very deliberately stilling his hands to rub and scratch at his scarred wrists. “You’re really not so bad compared to them,” he mumbles almost inaudibly. “ …And you haven’t hurt me, either.”

 

Ren makes the terrible mistake of peeking up to see the most anguished look on Naoya’s face he’s seen up to this point, which in turn causes Ren to miss out on several heartbeats and two cycles of breathing before his body can try to kickstart itself back into action.

 

“…That bar’s really low, kid.”

 

With those whispered words, Naoya once again— very cautiously this time— brings his hand to Ren, where he gently rests it on his shoulder. Ren neither flinches nor shies away, instead allowing the hand to be the grounding force that keeps him steady in the storm. Somehow the silence that follows this time feels… better, somehow? At least, it doesn’t feel as terrible as before although it still is rather horribly suffocating. Nagging doubts can’t help but linger a little longer than he would have liked, as well— too many unreasonable what-ifs still bounce around, each more unreasonable than the last. They’re all just as unlikely to occur, but it still gives Ren a phantom pain in his head and makes him far more tense than what’s good for his body until Naoya’s voice snaps him out of it.

 

“Don’t be so caught up in that head of yours all the time.” The man had already smoothed out any traces of abnormalities in his expression, and he gently pokes Ren’s forehead with his index finger with a gentle smile. “And try not to feel like you need to be strong all by yourself every single moment of your life— that will age you quicker than becoming a politician. You don’t want to look like Shido before you hit your thirties, do you? Bald and evil and with glasses in ill-taste?”

 

The resulting face Ren makes is enough to answer the question.

 

“See? Sometimes it’s good to share your burdens with others— humans are social creatures, and they crave to rely on others just as much as they crave necessities like food and water.” It doesn’t have to be right this second, but I’d say take some time to really figure out when the best moment to reveal these things about you will be.”

 

…Huh.

 

Ren is unable to wrap his head around it all. Well, the concept is logical and everything seems like a reasonable course of action, but… “Since when could you be so…”

 

“Hmm?” Naoya tilts his head with a rather devious look in his eyes when Ren trails off. “Educated? Wise? Eloquent?” Pausing for dramatic effect first, Naoya then taps a pondering finger on his chin while wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. “…Handsome?”

 

…Phht.

 

 Ren very lightly baps Naoya on the head. “...I was going to say kind, but now I think you’re an ass again.”

 

“Oww!” The man frowns, reaching up and holds the spot with both hands, similar to how a child would. “Nothing’s stopping you from all of those things, you know!”

 

“You need validation at your big age?”

 

“For all you know, I could be the same age as you!”

 

Ren cocks a very unimpressed eyebrow as far up as it will go. "For supposedly being sixteen, you didn't age well at all."

 

“Are all kids this mean these days?!”

 

The resulting laughter that comes from the short back-and-forth serves to break the remaining tension in the air, and Ren is no longer held down by the adrenaline-induced panic and therefore able to have a conversation like a normal person again. “...Todou.” he has to ask, because it’s the question that’s been bugging him the most since he’s got here. “I mean, Naoya. Why did the train turn into a courier for the Velvet Room?”

 

“That…” Naoya crosses his legs, placing a thoughtful hand on his chin. “You’d have to ask Philemon. He’s an odd one.”

 

Ren can’t believe that, not when he’s staring at Oddity Number One. “Odder than you?”

 

Naoya pouts in response, looking almost pitiable as he gives a surprisingly convincing puppy-dog eye stare. What is he, five? “I take offense to that, you know! I have feelings, too.”

 

(He probably takes offense because more than one person has said that to him…)

 

Ren partially fails to suppress an amused huff. And yet, he wonders why…

 

It then occurs to him that he should probably apologize for crushing some of the capillaries in Naoya’s wrist. “...Um. I really am sorry for overreacting earlier. I just…” Freaked? Lost his cool? But he doesn't get a chance to say any of those things before the man in question interjects.

 

 “...It’s alright,” Naoya smiles, once more invading Ren’s personal space to poke at his forehead. “Really.”

 

“...You’re too forgiving,” Ren instinctively leans away, accidentally hitting two of the piano keys with his hand in the process— an F and an A♭— and creating a soft harmony. “And too close. Lean back.”

 

“You just haven’t done anything for me to actually get upset.” Naoya winks, but he does draw back a little, bringing his hands to the piano keys once more. Somehow, he builds off of the harmony that Ren had unintentionally played, drawing forth quite a simple but pretty tune from the two notes alone. “And what kind of example of an adult would I be if I were to lash out at a teenager like yourself?”

 

“Mm… I guess that’s fair enough.”

 

(He should be grateful that he has self-restraint. I would have broken more than simply his hand if I were forced to intervene.)

 

The new song that fills the stage and its absent audience is a classical piece…  If Ren isn’t mistaken, it’s Claire de Lune. How Naoya managed to think of it so fast is a mystery to him.

 

(I did not know you were familiar with classical pieces as well. I had only taken you for a jazz person.)

 

I know my fair share of classical music. …Wait, shouldn’t we share the same interests?

 

(...Should we?)

 

Naoya brushes some of his hair aside, then goes back to playing the piano. “By which brings both dream and reality, mind and matter together,” he starts with a grandiose tone that carries throughout the performance hall. “I hereby subject thee to the beginnings of a brilliant newfound journey! Bonds shall be strengthened, and—”

 

“—Is the whole preface really necessary?”

 

Naoya grins toothily just as the world around them starts to shimmer and distort in ripples of blue. “Sure it is! Close your eyes, and you’ll be there in just a moment.”

 

…Hold on. If Naoya had the ability to get him into the Velvet Room, then what’s the point of transforming the train in the first place? But it’s only after Ren’s world turns black and his senses fade that Naoya’s smile turns apologetic. 

 

“There isn’t room for if-only’s in this world, but… the price to pay to overcome the fate you had really was too high.”

~*

 

It takes Ren quite a bit of time to become aware that he had somehow managed to become slumped against a wall. …No, not quite a wall. Walls don’t typically have this many ridges that dig into his back, do they?

 

“... … … …still adjusting. Give him a while.”

 

The light is still too bright for his eyes to be able to make out his surroundings properly, but Ren forces his eyes open anyway. Two different hands come to rest on both of his shoulders, which is this close triggering a knee-jerk reaction before a voice very close and to his left accompanies it.

 

“It’s alright, Amamiya-kun,” says the very calm, very familiar voice. “You’re definitely safe here.”

 

That alone isn’t enough to reassure Ren, but there’s something about that voice…

 

Yes, he definitely knows it. Ren’s eyes won’t adjust, but he thinks that voice belongs to… “...Narukami-san?”

 

The man nods, or at least, Ren thinks he does. It’s a bit hard to tell when his eyes are acting like they have astigmatism. “Nice to see you again.”

 

Finally, Ren’s pupils start to relax, allowin shapes and figures to start sharpening and clearing up. The room that he’s now in is also draped in a velvet-blue tint, but it’s a lot smaller than the stage he just came from. All of the walls are lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves, which are lined with both books and trinkets of varying sizes. A small chandelier hangs from the middle of the room, right above a circular, glossy wooden table with three chairs around it.

 

To his left is indeed Narukami, who looks fairly worried as he observes him. By his side is a shorter boy that appears to be around Ren’s age with a mix of blue and white hair that obscures one of his eyes. He also observes Ren with an almost disinterested gaze, but there’s something within it that almost seems to pull him in. 

 

Another set of footsteps approach him with haste. Compared to the duller sound of Narukami’s shoes, these ones produce a sharper clacking sound. High heels, possibly.

 

“Are you with us?” asks Amano. Her hands hover close to the side of his face, ready in case he lurches forward or keels.

 

Wait. Amano?

 

“A— Amano-san? Wait, why are you both— huh?” Ren blinks, then blinks again. The scene doesn’t change, nor does he wake up from some strange hyper-realistic fever dream. “W… What’s going on…? Why are you all… ack!” 

 

His next words are interrupted by a very strong wave of nausea, one strong enough to make him bring one hand up to his throat. Naoya had not been exaggerating when he first mentioned projectile vomiting— everything in his stomach felt like it had an irresistible need to escape his stomach at an egregiously high pressure and velocity.

 

In a moment, Suou is by his side as well, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing up too soon. “There’s no need to rush, so don’t make yourself sick.”

 

And Suou’s here, too. Ren has… many questions, he wisely heeds the advice, not making any more efforts to stand. Fortunately, the nausea passes quickly enough, and Ren is able to get back on his feet with relative ease. When he does, the young man standing by Narukami silently walks over to Ren and stares at him, still without saying a word. 

 

“...”

 

“...?”

 

“... Orpheus,” he mumbles. 

 

Ren blinks, feeling rather silly. “Huh?”

 

The young man doesn’t answer his question, continuing to speak as if Ren hadn’t spoken in the first place. “So you’re the one he reached out to…”

 

“Hold on.” Narukami interrupts the boy, his expression more than a bit surprised. “Are you sure, Makoto?”

 

The boy— Makoto, apparently, that was going to be fun to differentiate in Ren’s mind— glances at the man, his face entirely unreadable as he scrutinzes him further.

 

“I’m sure,” he nods.

 

“I… do?”

 

<...It has been a long time since I have seen him.>

 

Oh. There’s his answer, then.

 

“You’re looking a little weak in the knees, Ren.” Naoya points out. Really, did he have to point out everything when he sees it? “Do you need to sit?”

 

“No, I…”

 

(It would be better if you did. I don’t need you going weak in the knees and toppling over.)

 

“...Yeah.” Better to have to rest his head on the table than to fall to the floor. Ren takes the chair across from Tatsuya and gives him a little nod, which is reciprocated in kind.

 

Naoya takes it upon himself to start the main conversation, pulling up the last chair and sitting down in it befgore leaning forward to prop his head on his folded hands. “You’ve got a lot of questions, and now’s the time for them to finally be answered. Why don’t you start with introducing yourself?”

 

What’s the point of introducing himself? “All of you know me, though…” Ren points out.

 

“Sure.” Naoya pointedly scoots his chair out of reach of Makoto, who had been inches away from tilting his chair back to a dangerous degree. “But it’ll be good to do it under more… casual circumstances, yeah?”

 

Ren taps his finger on the edge of a leather-covered book on the table, considering the validity of his offer. He’d met Narukami while in jail, Amano just a few days after his escape, Suou after he went back to prison, and Naoya during Shido’s trial. Makoto… he’s not too sure about, but the circumstances he met the others under did leave a lot to be desired. A do-over wouldn’t hurt, he supposes.

 

“...Fine.” Introducing himself is a simple enough courtesy, anyway. “My name is Ren Amamiya. I’m…. uh…”

 

Wait, should he say he’s a Phantom Thief, or a Persona-user? They probably know both of those things, come to think of it. …Then again, maybe not.

 

(...I thought this was supposed to be a simple affair.)

 

Why don’t you introduce yourself, then? 

 

(I would certainly make it less painful than you currently are.)

 

…Touching.

 

“Um… I’m… a phantom thief? Well, not anymore, obviously, but I was. I mean…” Seriously, when has something as simple as an introduction become so difficult? Ren is definitely making this harder than necessary, but at the same time… being under the scrutiny of five other people who certainly have far more experience in Personas and life and everything in between increases the pressure dramatically.

 

“You!” Amano exclaims suddenly, pointing at Ren with an accusatory finger. His poor heart nearly flies out of his chest, but he reigns it back in pretty quickly.

 

“H— Huh? Me?”

 

(Well, she is even pointing at you. It would be hard for her to be talking about anyone else.)

 

”Ren Amamiya is a far cry from Akira Kurusu! You lied to me!”

 

When did I…

 

(At the jazz jin.)

 

…Ohhh. 

 

“Sorry,” Ren becomes a little sheepish under Maya's hurt glare. He’d almost forgotten about that and just about everything that happened after his grand escape. “It hadn’t been too long after my ‘suicide’, and you being a journalist made me a little wary.”

 

Maya places her hands on her hips. “Well, they can’t say that the Phantom Thieves’ leader isn’t prudent, at least…” she grumbles, but she’s smiling, so Ren doesn’t think that she’s too upset by his deceit. “Still, you let me go to the place you were living in at the time. That means I did something right, probably?”

 

That… is a good point, actually. Ren may have just not been in the entirely right headspace when he met Maya, but there had to be some degree of implicit trust between them for him to guide her to Leblanc so easily, right?

 

“I mean, you were definitely easier to get along with than Naoya, so that counts, I think.”

 

“Hold on, how come you’re calling Naoya by his given name?” Suou asks, uncrossing his legs. “Of all people…”

 

“Naoya was probably making it weird," Maya frowns. “He didn’t force you to, did he?”

 

“No, but he was making it kind of weird,” Ren affirms.

 

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.” Naoya repeats the same words he said earlier.

 

“Still, I think he has the right idea,” supplies Narukami. “I think it would help with your nerves if you didn’t refer to us so formally. We’re all equals here.”

 

“More or less,” smirks Naoya.

 

“You’re on the lesser side,” Makoto quips, interrupting his own deathly silence to make a jab at the fortune teller.

 

“That’s the first thing you say to me?!”

 

“I can, if that’s fine with you all,” Ren responds to Naukami. “But you guys are more experienced, so I just thought you would appreciate it if I stuck to honorifics…”

 

“I don’t think there’s any sort of hierarchy to this sort of thing. I mean, sure, we have more experience overall, but we each have our own set of skills. We’re more of a team than anything.”

 

“Mm… yeah, I guess team works,” Naoya concedes with a little shrug. He then lapses into a brief silence, where he soon frowns and turns his attention to his watch. There’s no way that actually works here, so it must be a force of habit, but he is staring at it like it’s actually telling him the correct time. “How is the party organizer going to be late to his own event, and after I went through all that effort to make sure our little Trickster got here safe and sound, too…”

 

“We’re still missing someone?” asks Ren. “I thought I was the last one.”

 

The man lets out an overly exaggerated sigh, leaning back in his chair as he puts on the biggest frown he can muster. “You were supposed to be, but Butterfly Boy still likes to march to the beat of his own drum.”

 

Coming from you, that seems a little—

 

“—Hypocritical, no?”

 

A distinctly different voice fills the room, turning all six of the heads towards the direction of the new sound. By the wooden door stands a man about an inch or so taller than Naoya, with jet-black hair tied up into a ponytail. He wears a dark gray turtleneck with light-colored pants— perhaps tan or some off-white color; again, it’s a bit hard to tell in the blue lighting— with sleek black dress shoes.

 

The most unique part about him, however, is the ivory-colored mask that covers half of his face. It is without any cracks or blemishes, with the exception of the area around his eye. That part blossoms out into a striking golden shape that strongly resembles a butterfly’s wing— it even has all of the veins of delicate webbing that a real one possesses. Everyone’s backs raise a little taller in his presence, which honestly freaks Ren out a little bit until Naoya breaks the silence.

 

“That mask gets more ornate and covers less of your face every time I see you.” Naoya's tone is casual, but the light bow he subsequently gives is one of respect. “Maybe you’re finally finding your style.”

 

The man nods at Naoya but doesn’t directly respond to him, instead turning his attention to the youngest in the room.

 

“Trickster, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he greets. The man's voice carries a timeless cadence of one who is wise but not arrogant, omnipotent but not apathetic. Unlike Yaldabaoth, or anyone else who used a seemingly infallible charisma to hide their ugly truths, this entity appears to be truly benevolent. “My name is Philemon, and... I suppose you can call me the master of the Velvet Room.”

 

“That’s you?” Ren’s eyes widen. “Butterfly Boy?” He then realizes that he probably should not have referred to him by a nickname that Naoya of all people had come up with. Great. What a lovely first impression he’s making. With any luck, Ren will have another entity after him, too.

 

…Speaking of. “...You’re actually who you say you are? You’re not some kind of god in disguise looking to screw over humanity?” Despite the words he used, Ren isn’t joking in the slightest. Waves of guarded hostility are practically rolling off of him as he stares at Philemon, prompting the other Persona-users to flicker their gazes warily between the Trickster and the Butterfly.

 

If Philemon had taken offense, then he doesn’t show it. He instead carefully turns over both of his arms, as if searching for any wounds or strange marks, before giving Ren a courteous smile. “Not that I am aware of,” he supposes, and… Now Ren is quite stunned, because he hadn’t expected such a being— the master of Igor and Lavenza— to have any sort of sense of humor.

 

“Hey, when did you learn how to be funny?” interjects Tatsuya, apparently just as baffled as Ren is.

 

“Human’s indulgence in various types of ‘humor’ has piqued my curiosity recently,” Philemon answers. Ren could be wrong, but it seems like that he's proud of himself. “So I merely thought to try it out.”

 

“The only thing you tried out on me was Armageddon R…”

 

Naoya snickers. “Wait, you actually tried Armageddon on him?”

 

What are they talking about…

 

“If it didn't work on Nyarlethotep, why would it possibly—”

 

“Naoya.” Tatsuya’s voice is pained in a way that resonates with Ren a bit too well, and he finds himself wincing from the secondhand hurt that grips his chest in a vice. Naoya doesn’t say anything more, but he gives Tatsuya a long look that’s impossible to make heads or tails of— but the way that Tatsuya is gripping his right hand gives Ren a little bit of insight into the current situation.

 

(...It appears we are of the same mind.)

 

Aren't we always?

 

“There’s definitely some unresolved tension here.” Yu points out the obvious for some reason, which is beyond unhelpful.

 

“Well, I’m about to resolve it!” Maya takes a verbal sledgehammer to the silence, stepping between the two men and flicking them hard on the forehead, breaking them from their intense stare-off.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Hey!”

 

“We didn’t come to meet for this! We came to meet with Ren! I didn’t have plans to be a babysitter when I first got here and I’m not gonna start now!”

 

Both of the men glance at each other. They don't look like they want to stop with whatever subliminal messages they're sending each other, but Maya is sort of— definitely— getting in the way of that. Eventually they end up nodding in some sort of silent understanding.

 

"...Fine," they both say pretty much at the same time.

 

I guess that solved it for the time being...?

 

“Um… speaking of us all being here…” Makoto, who had retreated to a corner at some point, raises his hand. Though his voice is quiet, it attracts the attention of everyone all the same. “Is it okay for me to be here like this? I thought I was still supposed to be…”

 

Philemon nods in understanding. “You still are, and the Seal is still intact. This is but a small fragment of yourself.”

 

"Uhh..." Maya dares to voice, because while those two seem to completely understand each other, everyone else looks at them like they'd both grown a second head. “What do you mean by a small fragment of him?” 

 

Makoto blinks, as if the answer should have been obvious. “I‘m dead."

 

“...”

 

(...)

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

Uhh…

 

Indeed, that had not been an obvious answer.

 

“Hi, Dead?" Yu tries to make a bad joke, but its effect is mostly lost due to the genuine surprise in his voice.

 

“I’m… sorry?” Tatsuya also speaks up, but Ren’s not sure if his words are out of confusion or as a way to offer his condolences. 

 

“I’m dead,” Makoto repeats without fanfare, pointing at himself as if that would make it all perfectly clear. “But just my body. If you want to get technical, I’m acting as the Seal that’s preventing the Fall from happening.”

 

(...He is?)

 

Wait, what's the Fall?

 

(...In short, is a cataclysmic event that would bring an absolute end to the world as we know it. The threat of it loomed very closely several years back, but it was effectively put on a permanent hold with the sacrifice of a sole person.)

 

How do you know about this? Weird stuff happened back home, but nothing like that.

 

(...It is rather abnormal how these events are easy to recall. Perhaps... you have witnessed them before?)

 

...Have I?

 

“You're really dead…” murmurs Maya. “I would have never guessed.”

 

“I would have,” hums Naoya self-appreciatively. "His energy was a little too strange, even compared to all of us."

 

“Good thing no one asked you to guess.” Tatsuya steps on Naoya’s foot with purpose; everyone pointedly ignores the way that he yelps in pain, and— wait.

 

He’s… a dead Persona-user… Why does this sound familiar?

 

“You Suous are both so violent…” Naoya grimaces, but he doesn’t bother to conceal the amusement in his eyes. “Although I guess it’s to be expected, coming from the guy who’s punched Philemon in the face.”

 

“You’ve punched Philemon?” Yu interjects. “The one who can Armageddon R anybody’s existence away in an instant?”

 

“I… may have.” Tatsuya does not deny it, but he does make a point to not look at the entity in question.

 

“Perhaps if I had his younger self’s temper, I would have,” Philemon quips, and Naoya laughs at Tatsuya’s expense.

 

Back then, that was…

 

“...Hold on.” Ren lifts his head to look at Makoto. The realization does not hit him like a ton of bricks as he had anticipated, but rather a slow onset of memories gradually becoming clearer in his mind until he has the full picture. Since Orpheus has been confirmed to originally be Makoto's, everything finally makes sense. The flashes of memories that Ren had seen... those had belonged to young blue-haired boy before him. “You’re the voice I heard.”

 

“Mhm.” Makoto's expression relaxes into a small smile, and he puts one of his hands in his pocket. “…I’m actually surprised you remember. You had a lot of dr..." A sort of stricken look crosses Makoto's face, but it's gone with the twitch of his finger. "...Actually, never mind."

 

It doesn't really take an Einstein to figure out what Makoto had been talking about. Looking around, everyone also seems to understand, but no one is surprised. Did they all seriously know? That's a little awkward.

 

“...Why don’t we explain everything in a bit more detail?” Yu offers. It’s not a subtle shift of topics, but it works all the same.“This would be a good time for all of us to catch you up, since you’re the only one who hasn’t properly met Philemon yet.”

 

“You all already know about him?”

 

“If it helps, I only met him two months ago,” supplies Makoto, stretching his legs out on the floor. “But it turns out that I’d “met” him before… albeit in another form.”

 

“He’d be… watching us, I guess?” Yu tilts his head toward Philemon, who gives him a small nod. “There would sometimes be a certain sort of feeling of being watched that would catch my attention, though I could never see it when I tried to look for the source.”

 

“He hasn’t actually made a direct physical appearance in our world in quite some time,” Naoya adds. “Due to some… situations in the past.”

 

“So when he does stop for a visit, he usually takes the appearance of a butterfly,” Tatsuya elaborates. “Golden signifies his presence, and blue signifies his attention.”

 

Philemon nods. “Hence the Butterfly Boy moniker I seem to have received from Naoya.”

 

Blue… signifies his attention?

 

(Strange… did Lavenza not also take the form of a blue butterfly during the course of the year?)

 

“Ah, Lavenza… of all the attendants, she happens to be the one who has taken after that trait.”

 

(...?!)

 

Honestly, it shouldn’t be a surprise that someone like Philemon is able to hear Personas directly, but it’s still a little unnerving that he’s able to hear him without him being summoned.

 

Would it be too much to hope for this to be a coincidence?

 

(...There are few things in this world that are.)

 

Yu sees Ren staring at Philemon in blatant shock first. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

 

Philemon is looking right back at Ren with no small amount of intrigue. “Oh? I was not aware that your Persona actively communicates to you.” 

 

“I…” Ren tilts his head, biting back the many questions that he has in favor of one. “That’s… not a normal thing?”

 

“Wait, your Personas actually talk to you, Ren-kun?” Maya widens her eyes. “Is it like, full-blown conversations or just like the occasional word or two?”

 

“Um… It’s mainly Arséne that talks, but sometimes some of the others do.” This can’t be that unusual, can it? “We have conversations pretty much every day…”

 

“That’s really cool, actually,” whistles Makoto, a actually sounding impressed.

 

“Ohh, so it’s really a weird voice in your head hogging all of your attention every time you would space out on me,” Naoya nods slowly like he’s discovered the answer to whether the chicken or the egg came first. “How interesting.”

 

(...Hm. I feel like I should be offended by this.) 

 

But their genuine surprise about all of this does raise an interesting question. “…Do yours not talk to you at all?” After meeting some of the other Wild Cards for the first time, Ren had kind of just assumed that all of them could talk to their Personas on a regular basis— he hadn’t even considered that it would be exclusive to him.

 

Yu shakes his head, fiddling with a pair of gray glasses in his breast pocket. “Basically never, but he did talk when you were in Inaba’s jail… huh.” His gray eyes shine with intrigue, thinking over something. “Strange… why didn’t I find that odd at the time…? Izanagi basically never makes conversation…”

 

“Apollo just gives me thoughts and feelings on occasion,” Tatsuya answers for himself. “But like Yu said, it’s extremely rare for him to send actual coherent messages, much less for him to have a conversation with me.”

 

As the others nod along, Ren can’t help but feel a bit... odd. He’s a guest of the Velvet Room just like them, but outside of being able to wield multiple Personas, the other abilities he has are things that none of the others can do. Is he isolated even in the midst of such a small group?

 

“I wouldn’t stress over it too much,” Naoya’s voice cuts through, as if reading his thoughts— although Ren wouldn’t actually be surprised if the man could at this point. “We all have things that only we can do, and besides, we wouldn’t be so special if we could all do the same things, now would we?”

 

Point taken. “That’s the third best thing that Naoya’s said to me,” Ren muses.

 

“The third?” asks Yu. “What was the first thing?”

 

“Aren’t you skipping a number…” Tatsuya mumbles.

 

Ren closes his eyes, resting the side of his face against his propped up hand. “Nothing,” he smiles. 

 

“...Nothing?” Repeats Tatsuya.

 

Makoto is the one to break the confusion, a look of complete understanding and comprehension on his face. “A “him being quiet” kind of nothing,” he elaborates with a lax smile. “That’s funny.” He… isn’t laughing, but he looks amused enough? Probably.

 

“Everything does tend to get better when Naoya’s not talking,” nods Tatsuya.

 

“I’m right here…” Naoya grumbles.

 

“I think that’s the point, Naoya-san,” whispers Yu very, very seriously.

 

Before Naoya has a chance to protest further, Makoto snaps his fingers, his uncovered eye lighting up with a small spark of interest as something comes to his mind.  “Oh, you know what’s really cool? Ren negotiates with Shadows. It’s really weird.”

 

Yu perks up, turning to Ren. “Really? How do you do that? Shadows aren’t exactly amicable.”

 

“Um… some aren’t,” Ren admits. A few come to mind, and some of the memories that he has of some of them leave a whole lot to be desired, evidenced by the new bounce in his leg that sparks up. “But save for ones that are more under the Palace ruler’s control and most people’s Shadows themselves, all of them can be talked to in the right circumstances.”

 

Tatsuya makes a pleased sound. “It’s not that weird,” he smiles, leaning against the bookshelf behind him. “We used to do something like that, too.”

 

“Yeah, Tatsuya used to woo them with his stunning motorcycle noises,” adds Maya, hitting the man’s arm and revving up an invisible motorcycle with vigor. “Vroom, vroom!”

 

“I didn’t do that…” The man in question tries to deny it, but it’s a futile effort.

 

“Hmm, I think I remember otherwise~”

 

“My old group used to do pretty much the same thing,” Naoya nods, also recalling some memories of his own. “...Minus the motorcycle noises. Tatsuya’s just weird.”

 

This makes Tatsuya recover from his bout of embarrassment with haste. “Didn’t you just say that you also also used to make noises to them?”

 

“Hmm? I suddenly can’t seem to remember if this was true or not… Oh, yeah!” A master of changing the subject, Naoya snaps once and leans forward. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we all reminisce on our primes as Persona-users?”

 

“Don’t go changing the subject, Todou…”

 

“No, he’s actually got a good point this time.” Yu steps up to Naoya’s defense, which in turn makes him smile smugly at Tatsuya. “I think it’d benefit everyone if we learned more about everyone’s adventures as Persona-users.”

 

“Story time sounds fun!” Maya agrees. 

 

When everyone else agrees— or in Makoto’s case, lets out a noncommittal hum— Naoya claps his hands with vigor. “So? Should I start first?”

 

“You may as well,” Yu says. “You’re the oldest out of all of us.”

 

“Alright… Once upon a time, there was a boy with an earring on his—”

 

“Skip the preface, if you will,” Tatsuya interrupts.

 

“Tough crowd…”

 

Everybody tells their stories— sad at times, hopeful at others, and even leaning towards the utterly nonsensical, even for Ren’s standards— but they are all a part of each of their lives, a piece of them that they will have forever. There are some parts of it that they each keep to themselves, just like there are bits and pieces that Ren decides to tuck away deep in the recesses of his own mind, but everyone tells enough to where it’s easy to imagine the big picture. With the grand storytelling, he learns the order of everything— Naoya had come first, then Maya and Tatsuya a few years later— which had been by far the most confusing and vague out of everyone’s, though Ren suspects this is for the same reason that Tatsuya has the brand on his arm. Makoto’s adventure had come about a decade later, then Yu’s two years after that.

 

A lot of things that had once been fuzzy or vague to Ren made a whole lot more sense as Yu recounted everything with the Investigation Team. The fog, the murders… who knew that those had all involved Personas, and it hadn’t even been that long ago.

 

“...Teddie’s a Shadow?” There’s a shocker. “I thought the bear outfit was just a costume!”

 

“Nah, that’s where he grew his body from.”

 

(Is he… being serious?)

 

“I can’t really tell when it comes to him…” Tatsuya glances at the younger officer. “Are you being serious?”

 

Yu nods. “Bear-y.”

 

“What kind of unserious response is that…”

 

“The kind of response that a Shadow in the form of a bear-turned-human would give.”

“Your Awakening sounds very… violent.” Yu— well, everyone— had cringed a bit at Ren’s vivid explanation of his Awakening, but was nonetheless intrigued by it. “And also more specific, rather than it just being there one day or appearing because you were in danger or something.”

 

It was a hell of a way to do it, that's for sure...

(I merely gave you the push you needed at that moment.)

 

“You guys even had codenames?” Tatsuya doesn’t try to hide his impressed nod, looking at Ren with immense approval. “Everything really was planned down to a T… Even though you guys are technically criminals, the amount of foresight you all had is incredible.”

 

“Wait, you should totally give us cool codenames, too!” exclaims Maya. “I could be something like, “Big Sis Maya”!”

 

“It’s got Maya in your name,” Tatsuya points out. “That sort of defeats the point of it being a codename.”

 

“Aw, you’re right…”

 

“And if we’re going the nickname route… I’d request to be called something other than Ta-chan.” Tatsuya makes his suggestion while making it a point to not look Maya in the eyes.

 

“But that one’s cute! Plus only people who know will recognize it as being you!”

 

“That’s already too many people…” Tatsuya manages to find himself deeply interested in the way his watch isn’t ticking on his wrist. “...Why don’t we let Ren decide? He’s good at picking codenames, right?”

 

“Fine, fine…” Maya relents, turning to face Ren. “Do you have any ideas, Ren-kun?”

 

“Um…” Ren isn’t quite sure why, but he has a disturbingly easy time picturing Tatsuya being very good at riding a motorcycle. Weaving through traffic, maybe popping a wheelie or two, skidding to a stop in the middle of a road… he would definitely be fitting as some sort of lone wolf protagonist in a movie.

 

Movie…

 

“Um…" This is a bit of a long shot, but... "Akira comes to mind.”

 

“Akira…?” asks Yu. “Oh, like the movie?” 

 

“He does ride a motorcycle, so that’s an accurate comparison,” Naoya hums. “In that case, maybe Cycle will work?”

 

“Isn’t that a little too basic…” Tatsuya starts to complain, but then he turns to actually look at Naoya. “...Wait. Knowing you, there’s probably an unfunny double meaning behind this.”

 

“I’ll give you a second chance to think about it.”

 

“You didn’t even give me a first.” Tatsuya already doesn’t look amused, but when he quickly realizes the hidden meaning, he stops flicking his lighter and glowers at the fortune teller.  “...You bastard.”

 

Yu raises his hand. “I nominate myself to be called Kingpin,” he declares with nothing but seriousness and sincerity in his heart.

 

Makoto looks Yu dead in the eyes. “Who the hell is calling you Kingpin?”

 

“All the ladies. …Actually, all the dudes, too.” With frightening speed, Yu settles into a very convincing stereotypical charmer act, leaning over the table to rest his arm on it. “They can’t handle my Velvet Charisma.”

 

“Velvet Charisma…” Naoya repeats with a little snort. “If this keeps up, Philemon may have to think about monetizing the Velvet name…” Regardless, he chooses to indulge the officer. “So tell me, Yu. What exactly is this Velvet Charisma that you speak of?”

 

“This.” With a snap of his fingers, he strides towards Makoto and takes one of his hands in both of his with astonishing grace. “Makoto-san, come with me to a place where people are no longer burned by the sin of humanity, where people can give up their pain to live in an ideal world for all of eternity."

 

 

(...That is an odd scenario.)

 

And it doesn't even sound appealing...

 

“I can feel something in my chest tightening…” Makoto whispers, closing his eyes and bringing his free hand over to where his heart is— would be. “What is this strange feeling…?”

 

“Heartburn?” suggests Maya. “Wait, can you even get that?”

 

“Oppression…” breathes Ren.

 

“If you listen hard enough, you can hear the distinct jingle of chains…” Naoya comments.

 

“I do have handcuffs on me,” Tatsuya states. To prove his point, he pushes back his coat to reveal the lustrous metal cuffs. Well, that explains that.

 

“Ooh,” Yu smirks without even a breath of hesitation, turning his meaningful gaze over to rest squarely on the detective. “How’d you know I was into that, Mr. Suou? Unless…” 

 

For a good few good seconds, Tatsuya struggles to come up with a suitable response to Yu’s insinuations. Ren can’t help but laugh quietly at the detective’s expense. “Don’t project your weird hobbies on me, Narukami.”

 

“You don’t need to be insecure. We’re all comfortable with each other here.”

 

“I’m about to start treating you how I treat Naoya.”

 

Speaking of, Naoya has already moved on to the next person, setting his sights on the quiet blue and white-haired boy. “Let’s see, for Makoto… You’re basically locked to a giant door, so… What about Door-kun?”

 

(Tell him that his sense of humor is sorely lacking in the “humorous” department.)

 

“Arséne says that your sense of humor is shit,” Ren relays dutifully.

 

“Hm? I think I’m very funny!”

 

(I believe his opinion is biased…)

 

Anyway… “Is Door-kun fine?” Ren asks, otherwise he’s going to spend all day internally snarking at the fortune teller.

 

“Mm.” Makoto just closes his eyes in a maybe-response.

 

Well… that’s good enough, right? “What about you, Maya?” Ren turns to the woman. “Is there anything in particular you want to be called?”

“Hmm… I’m fine with whatever you pick out, Ren-kun! You seem to have a good knack for these kinds of things.”

 

Simple enough. “You have a really bright personality, but you're also pretty cool… What about Star?”

 

Maya’s eyes sparkle as soon as she hears her codename. “I like it!” she beams. “‘Even when the clouds cover the night, stars still shine their light down on the world.’ It gets the Maya Approval!”

 

After a couple more minutes of the others discussing their own codenames amongst themselves, Naoya raises his voice so he can be heard. “Let’s go over the nicknames we’ve got. What do we have on hand?”

 

“Um…” Ren quickly recollects. “We have Trickster for me, Kingpin for Yu, Door-kun for Makoto, Cycle for Tatsuya, Star for Maya, and…” 

 

“—and Supreme,” Naoya interjects smoothly.

 

“Wh…” Ren pauses to stifle down an incredulous chuckle threatening to bubble over. “...Um. And, ahem… Supreme for Naoya.”

 

(Is he an idiot?)

 

“Only like three of these are serious,” giggles Maya.

 

“I actually kind of like Door-kun,” Makoto smiles, opening his eyes halfway. “It fits.”

 

“Literally no one agreed to call you Supreme.” Tatsuya rolls his eyes. “I vote for a name change.”

 

"Seconded," Yu agrees.

 

“Okay, then let’s vote!” Maya somehow becomes the adjudicator for this session. “Everyone say a codename for him in three, two, one!”

 

“Supreme.”

 

“Dickhead.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

“Fortune.”

 

“Daybreak.”

 

…That wasn’t nearly as cohesive as I thought it was going to be.

 

(You thought that everyone would be on the same page? That is cute.)

 

“Um… okay…” Maya slaps her forehead, but sighs and continues. “Explanations?”

 

“I like it,” declares Naoya.

 

“He’s a dickhead,” Tatsuya states.

 

“Ditto,” Makoto agrees.

 

“He’s a fortune teller, so it makes sense.” At least Yu’s has more thought put into it than the first two— but it still makes Ren a little self-conscious when all eyes turn to him for his explanation.

 

“He, um…  kind of marks the beginning of this whole journey of all of us.” Ren reaches up to fiddle with his glasses, only to remember that he’s no longer wearing them. There goes that nervous tick. “…I thought Daybreak would be fitting in that aspect.”

 

A chorus of approval fills the small room, lifting the quiet weight from Ren’s heart.

 

“You came up with a meaningful name that fast?” praises Maya. “You really are an expert at this.”

 

"I just say what comes to mind..."

 

"But you put a lot of thought into them." Yu doesn't give Ren a chance to talk down on himself. "All of the names you've come up with have been really good."

 

“If you knew the meaning behind Cycle, you’d be singing my praises too.” Naoya scuffs his foot against the ground idly.

 

“...It is pretty clever,” Tatsuya admits after a great hesitation, which makes the fortune teller grin like he’s just won the lottery.

 

There’s no way of knowing exactly how much time passed after the codename conversation, but it’s been long enough for Ren to truly be able to make himself comfortable in the small space he finds himself sharing with the other guests of the Velvet Room. It’s also been long enough for the topics to shift to talking about Shadows and Personas, where Ren desperately tries to describe Jack-O’-Lantern to the others but to little avail.

 

“It’s a little guy, he’s got a green hat, blue cloak, carries a lantern…”

 

He gets five blank stares in return.

 

“...Has a pumpkin head?”

 

…And then five lightbulbs go off.

 

“...Pyro Jack?” says everyone else in tandem.

 

“Yeah, Py—” Wait. “Pyro huh?”

 

“Pyro Jack,” repeats Yu, either not aware of or choosing not to acknowledge Ren’s befuddlement. “That’s the Persona you just described. Good buddies with Jack Frost, right?”

 

“Y… Yeah…?” What the hell is a Pyro Jack, though? “…I’ve just never heard it be called Pyro Jack before.”

 

“Really?” asks Tatsuya. “You’ve only ever heard it be called Jack-O’-Lantern?”

 

“Well, that’s kind of basic…” Yu frowns. “Very… literal.”

 

“I think it’s cute!” Maya smiles. “He does embody that spirit rather well.”

 

“Spirit… haha.” Makoto laughs lightly. “I guess you could call us kindred spirits, then.”

 

“I wonder if the name discrepancy has anything to do with Yaldabaoth…” wonders Naoya.

 

“Maybe the Compendium gets updated over time?” Ren thinks this makes sense. That would explain some of the inconsistencies. “Kind of like dictionaries?”

 

Almost in unison, six pairs of eyes fall upon Philemon. Ren had almost forgotten that he had still been in the room the entire time— he hasn’t said anything in such a long time- and he hasn’t moved an inch. If Futaba were here, she would have probably likened him to an NPC.

 

“That is a feasible hypothesis,” he nods from his spot next to the door, neither confirming nor disproving the guess.

 

…Why doesn't he just say yes or no?

 

In any event, the conversation soon shifts over to Mara… that goes about as well as anyone might expect.

 

“I think we all know what it is,” Yu declares.

 

“Yeah,” snickers Naoya. “Not Tatsuya’s.”

 

Tatsuya shows Naoya no mercy by pushing against the back of his chair with his foot until he’s tilted up against the table. “What are you, twelve?”

 

“I’m pretty sure that was the direction Yu was going, too,” Makoto points out.

 

“Actually, yeah,” confirms Yu. 

 

Tatsuya groans. “I don’t think anyone would want one that has full autonomy.”

 

“I dunno, some people have weird kinks…”

 

“What kind of kink could you possibly have to want—” Tatsuya wisely stops himself before he could dig himself a hole he wouldn’t be able to crawl out of. “Actually, please don’t answer that. I feel like you’re going to give me a genuine answer.”

 

What even is this conversation…

 

Ren bites the inside of his cheek with a rather noticeable flush on his face. These types of conversations aren’t exactly foreign or new to him, but it still doesn’t make them any less awkward to sit through. It's odd hearing these types of things from people who have been alive for multiple decades rather than people around Ren’s own age.

 

Similarly embarrassed, Maya buries her face in her hands. “Oh my god…” She turns to Ren, who has a rather awkward look on his face. “Sorry, Ren, they’re kinda… you see. They say men’s combined age is six at most… Though this is closer to a twelve-year-old’s sense of humor.”

 

“...Ren’s too young for this kind of conversation!” 

 

Naoya somehow manages to get behind Ren undetected and press his hands against his ears, which… who knows why he got that idea not long after Ren nearly snapped his wrist in two. “How could I be so insensitive?!”

 

 Fortunately for him, the phantom thief is more bemused than anything. “What are you doing…” Ren mumbles half-heartedly. His voice is amplified in his ears because of Naoya’s hands, which makes him speak softer in turn.

 

“Child sensor,” he answers, sounding really proud of himself for some reason. Ren doesn’t know why since he can still hear him pretty well.

 

“…I’m almost seventeen.”

 

“You’ve already finished your second year and you’re still sixteen? Damn, you’re young…”

 

“Language,” chides Yu. Why is he going along with this, too?! “And that makes you the youngest out of all of us.”

 

Ren points at Makoto.

 

“Dead,” Makoto restates, also pointing at himself. “I don’t count. Also, I’m like…” Makoto counts on his fingers, squinting his eyes as he puts an exuberant amount of effort into doing basic math. “...Twenty-five? When were you a second-year, Yu?”

 

“2011.”

 

“Yep.” This time Makoto answers with certainty. “I’m twenty-five.”

 

What? “How does that even count? You haven’t aged in seven years.”

 

“I’m preventing the Fall from happening. I think that means I can do whatever I want.”

 

“He’s right,” says Naoya.

 

“Can’t argue with that,” nods Tatsuya.

 

…Right.

 

(Better save yourself the headache and move on.)

 

“How old are you two, anyway?” Ren asks, heeding Arséne’s advice and turning to Naoya and Tatsuya. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re both over forty with the way you talk.”

 

“Only Naoya is.” Tatsuya quickly points at the purple-haired man and takes two large steps away from him.

 

“Rude. Way to throw me under the bus,” sulks said old man, resting his face on his hand as he frowns. “And what do you mean, the way I talk? I can be lit and swag.”

 

The three youngest Wild Cards suck in a pained breath.

 

“That’s… not how young people talk.” Ren successfully pries Naoya’s hands from his ears before promptly burying his head in his hands.

 

"Never speak again," Yu suggests.

 

“I’d rather die than talk like that unironically,” murmurs Makoto. “...Oh wait.” The boy lets out a soft chuckle at his own joke before closing his eyes and promptly falling asleep.

 

“That’s no way to talk to your elders!" Naoya insists. "Tell them, Butterfly Boy.”

 

Philemon blinks slowly. “Tell them what?”

 

“...I hate you.”

 

“It would be redundant of me to say that to you when they are all right here.”

 

Ren has to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud.

 

“Well, he’s technically right,” smirks Tatsuya. “It would be redundant for him to say that when we could just all say it to your face right now.”

 

“Everybody on three.” Maya holds her hands up like a conductor. “One, two, three…”

 

A chorus of “I hate Naoya” enthusiastically permeates through the small room.

 

See, we were all on the same page this time.

 

(United for a common cause, I suppose.)

 

“Naoya, has it ever occurred to you that if even Philemon’s making fun of you, you might just be the problem?” Maya snickers, nudging the man's chair with her foot.

 

“Or maybe you all are just mean for no reason!" Naoya gives Maya a fake-glare and scoots his chair a little closer to the table. "What did I even do?”

“Oh, do you really want a list?” Tatsuya takes great pleasure in getting back at the older man, a satisfied smirk of his own growing on his face when Naoya is the one who has to grovel in silence. "We can talk about it if you want."

 

"Let's not."

 

Eventually, everyone breaks off into their own little groups to have conversations— Yu and Maya get to chit-chatting, while Tatsuya and Naoya engage in a really intense game of poker. When asked what they were gambling, their response had been “The World”, while holding up the corresponding Tarot card.

 

Uhh… I guess I’ll leave them to it, then?

 

Makoto still sleeps in the corner, so Ren just leans his head against his hand and watches everyone with a little smile. Unlike most social situations, he doesn’t feel pressured to have to make conversation with anyone, nor do the others try and make him talk (not that he would have minded, the conversations have been very entertaining thus far). It’s nice being in a place where masks are unnecessary and everyone can just be their true selves without being subject to the unspoken social rules.

 

“...I’m sorry.”

 

Ren turns in his seat to look at Makoto, who is now standing next to him. It’s hard to tell, but he seems a little bit upset. “What for?”

 

For the first time, Makoto visibly hesitates, and Ren can’t help the uneasy feeling that starts to grow within him. 

 

“I… couldn’t warn you in time about the fake Igor and the game, and I couldn’t do anything even when you were moments away from dying.” Fiddling with his hair above his covered eye, it lifts enough to where Ren can see that the eye hidden underneath is a  “I was there, but all I could do was try and tell you to live.”

 

Is that why he had gone quiet for such a long time? “That’s not your fault,” Ren asserts. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be such an easy topic for him to broach, but it seems pointless to err on the side of trepidation when everyone in the room already knows. “No one could have guessed that they’d all try to kill me.” And they’d… all tried to kill him in one way or another. Wow, that’s not great. “And you did help me. What you said made me hang on for a little longer." 

 

“But still…” Makoto’s eyes go cloudy as he stares at his hands, hands that are now trembling ever-so-slightly. “...I’ve seen so many people die… I’ve even died, but that was nothing like watching someone get the life tortured out of them bit by bit…”

 

To that, Ren finds that words fail him.

 

“I hated watching that, so I can’t imagine how you felt living through it. If I had known earlier, I… could have let Philemon or someone know somehow, so you didn’t have to…”

To suffer, is what the end of his sentence would have been if he had completed it. Everyone suffers in life. That much is a well-known but little-spoken fact. No one likes to, but well. That's life, isn't it? To suffer, and then persevere, or destroy yourself trying.

 

“It’s fine,” Ren finally mumbles. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and see all of their empathy, so he traces small, light circles on his wrist with his index finger instead. “Really.”

 

“You really do say that too much,” Naoya points out, breaking his silence. “One day it’s not going to be fine, and then what are you going to do?”

 

What will I do…? I…

 

Cry, probably— but Ren gets the feeling that’s not what Naoya means. Speaking of, he does feel like he’s about to let loose some unwanted tears here in a second….

 

“...Do you want a hug?”

 

“Wa—” Ren’s voice cracks, so he clears his throat and tries again while staring rather dumbly at Maya. “Uh… Why?”

 

“Because. You’re sad. You’re lonely. You like us.” Makoto wiggles his eyebrows a little bit, which is incredibly absurd when compared to the utter lack of emotion his voice has otherwise.

 

“I barely know you guys,” the phantom thief tries to protest. “And I’m not sad or lonely.”

 

“But you like us! That’s why we have to take the first step somewhere!” smiles Maya, who is clearly all for the idea. “And besides, I don’t think it’s fair for you to have to deal with everything all by yourself, especially now that we’ve all managed to meet each other!’

 

Ren makes a face through his continued efforts to try and hold back tears. “A kid getting hugged by a bunch of adults is weird.”

 

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” quotes Yu.

 

“I’m still technically a kid too,” Makoto quips. “So don’t feel weird about it.”

 

“Weren’t you the one who insisted that you were an adult?” Tatsuya cocks an eyebrow at the blue-haired boy. “You can’t be twenty-five and seventeen at the same time.”

 

“Have you seen me?” Makoto once again takes the initiative to wrap his arms firmly around Ren. “Anyway, I’m taking my hug. I like how warm you feel.”

 

Ren sighs, but doesn’t object.. “...Can’t you rephrase?”

 

“Nnnnope.”

 

Yu smiles, taking a couple of steps towards the two but not yet joining in. “I think we should all still check with Ren-kun and see if he’s comfortable with it.”

 

“It’s fine— Mostly everything’s healed now. Just don’t squeeze me too tight.”

 

“Makoto,” chides Yu. The boy mumbles something unintelligible, but he loosens his grip.

 

Everyone else joins in, making a six-person group hug along the wall opposite of Philemon— who’s just standing there watching them with possibly-amusement. It’s a surprisingly quiet affair, at least for about ten seconds before it is broken by a ridiculous question.

 

“You think that since we’re all so close together, the world’s just gonna… blow up?”

 

Leave it to Naoya to make things utterly unfathomable. “...Why would that even happen?”

 

“We all have major aura by ourselves, so what do you think will happen if we’re this close to each other for an extended period of time?”

 

That almost makes sense, except for the part where Naoya started spouting nonsense.

 

“Aura…?” Makoto mutters. “What the hell are you even saying…” 

 

“I’m ahead of the times.”

 

“Keep your inane thoughts to yourself, Naoya,” hisses Tatsuya.

 

Unfortunately, Naoya does not keep his inane thoughts to himself for very long. “...Boom,” he whispers before making a quiet explosion noise. 

 

Tatsuya steps on his foot in response. “You’re not funny.”

 

“Actually, that was kinda funny,” snickers Makoto, lifting his head so he can look at the other unreasonably taller people. “Boom.”

 

“Boom,” repeats Yu. He and Maya make their own explosion noises at the same time.

 

“You guys are so unserious,” Ren manages to laugh through the ache of his heart. “...Boom.”

 

“Five big booms. What do you think a sixth one will do to the world as we know it?”

 

“Naoya.” This time Maya is the one to question the fortune teller. “Makoto was right— what the hell are you talking about?”

 

Naoya just keeps on talking. “You know, didn’t a big explosion kind of happen when—”

 

“—The only boom there will be from me is Apollo using Nova Cyther against you if you finish that sentence.” Tatsuya’s threat is swift and sure, silencing the rest of Naoya’s words with the accuracy of an expert marksman.

 

“Hmm… now sounds like a good time for us to let go. I think Tatsuya’s about four seconds away from burning me alive.”

 

“Make that one.”

 

Everyone murmurs various words of agreement, and they all untangle themselves from each other. Honestly, that big, mildly dysfunctional group hug did make Ren feel better. Seeing how some of the weariness disappeared from the other’s faces, he doesn’t think it would be that much of a stretch to say that it had a similar effect on them, too.

 

This time when everyone breaks into their little conversation groups, Ren becomes a part of Yu and Makoto’s conversation. That turns out to be the most normal one he’s listened in on since being in here— but that bar is really low to begin with.

 

“Hey Makoto,” Yu starts off, leaning against the bookshelf wall behind him and capturing both Makoto and Ren’s attention. “Have you heard of a guy named Sho?” 

 

“Sho…?” Makoto’s eyes widen in realization before he scowls so deeply that it almost scares Ren. “Wasn’t he one of Ikutsuki’s test subjects? The split-personality one?”

 

…Test subject??

 

Yu nods. “That’s the one.”

 

“How’s he been?”

 

“Fine, I think. It’s hard to get into contact with him, but… Actually, I think he mentioned coming back to Inaba at about this time.”

 

Makoto sighs, satisfied with the answer.

 

Why do I feel like I’m going to be given a side quest?

 

“Hey, Ren. I’ve got a little quest for you.”

 

“Um… okay?” Called it.

 

“If you happen to see someone with bright red hair, two katanas on his back, and a big scar shaped like an X between his eyes, can you give this note to him?” Yu hands Ren a neatly folded envelope with a yellow wax seal. Fancy.

 

“Sure…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll definitely know him when you see him.”

 

(Right… but why you specifically?)

 

Who knows…

 

“Right…”

 

Yu claps him on the back gently. “You’ve got it!” he cheers with confidence.

 

Naoya observes everyone with a curious fascination, especially a certain masked man…

 

“Philemon.” Naoya leans forward and rests his chin atop of his interlocked fingers, addressing the entity who hasn’t spoken in quite some time. “Why don’t you actually answer the question this time, and tell us your real reason for bringing us together?”

 

Everyone’s idle conversations with each other come to an abrupt stop, and everyone turns first towards Naoya, and then Philemon. It’s a valid question after all— bringing this many people of similar abilities together like this would be more likely to be for something that requires their combined efforts than for a leisurely get-to-know-you chat.

 

“I understand your concern,” Philemon starts. “The convergence of many powerful humans at once is rarely a good occurrence. However, my intentions are truly as I stated— I wished for you all to get to know each other, so that if the world does require the assistance of multiple Wild Cards, they would already be familiar with one another.”

 

Maya bites her lip. “So i— is there really something happening?” There’s a little bit of a tremble to her voice, a worry that she fights very hard to suppress under a more casual tone.

 

“Not at the moment, no.”

 

“But will there be?” Tatsuya presses.

 

Philemon hovers his hand above his mask. “There is always something happening beyond our sights.”

 

Tatsuya glares at the entity for a minute, then sighs, placing his hand over his right forearm with a frown. “I keep seeing where Igor gets his air of mystery from.”

 

“Clear as fog, that one is,” adds Yu with a shake of his head.

 

“Fog… like Inaba.” Makoto’s eyes light up in realization, and a benign smile crosses his face. “Haha, good one.”

 

“Has anyone told you that your sense of humor’s a little off…?” mumbles Naoya. “I think you’ve been dead for too long.”

 

“It’s better than yours.”

 

“Uh… I actually have a question,” says Ren, raising his hand like he would in a classroom. “Did I really kill Yaldabaoth, or is it going to be a recurring nuisance? I’d rather not have to fight it ever again.”

 

“You did,” Philemon confirms. “I can assure you that you will not have to worry about that self-proclaimed god anymore.”

 

“How did Ren actually get a straight answer out of him…” grumbles Tatsuya.

 

“I think it’s more impressive that he managed to kill a god on the first try…” whistles Makoto. “The power of a Trickster is incredible.”

 

Now that Ren knows Philemon seems capable of answering his questions, another one pops to mind. However, trepidation and uncertainty prevent him from saying more than one word.

 

“Did…”

 

“...?”

 

(You wish to ask about his fate, do you not?)

 

I do, but… I’m scared to find out.

 

“Hm… I see.” Philemon regards Ren with a little nod, then smiles rather ambiguously. “You wish to ask about the fate of the other who was a player in the ‘game’, correct?”

 

How did he…

 

“I believe you will find the answer to that question in due time. The world has countless stories to tell, and his is one of them. You need only search for it.”

 

“...I see.” All things considering, that’s not a bad answer at all. “Thank you.”

 

Just then, there is the faint sound of a bell tolling, its ringing clear and crisp and telling of a meeting about to end.

 

“Our time here has nearly expired,” Naoya states.

 

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Tatsuya snorts.

 

“What, do you decide when I wake up?” Ren uncrosses his arms, though— the feeling of the end of this “reunion” is growing within him as well.

 

“Actually, Philemon does,” Makoto jumps in. “But your train’s also about to arrive in Okina, and I don’t think you’d want to miss that.”

 

“Uh… you can see that?” Maya brings the nail of her thumb to her lip with a  little frown. “That’s kind of unnerving, Makoto.”

 

“I think it’s because Ren has Orpheus,” he shrugs. “I can’t see what the rest of you guys are doing.”

 

Goodbyes have always been a bit hard for Ren, but this one is less of a goodbye and more of a new beginning. …Huh. Ren’s been getting a lot of moments like those lately. Maybe this is just a period of new beginnings for him.

 

“No forgetting us, alright?” Naoya walks up to Ren, holding out his hand. “That would make this meeting kind of pointless.”

 

“I wish I could forget about you,” mumbles Makoto as Ren shakes Naoya’s hand. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

 

“I’m not gonna forget you guys,” Ren asserts. In all actuality, he respects Naoya— at least when he’s being serious. “You’re all too interesting to forget so quickly.”

 

Yu walks up to the young man next, extending his own hand with a smile. “You’ll probably be seeing me again soon. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

 

Ren nods. “I won’t.” Turning to the other officer in the room, he clenches his fist over his heart and raises his head. “I really would appreciate it if you could find those people. It won’t do much for me in the past, but… I think it will bring the current me some peace of mind.”

 

“You have my word,” Tatsuya nods. “They broke the law; they have to be subject to the punishments it has to offer.”

 

“I’ve still got a whole bunch to talk about with you!” 

 

“...Oof!”

 

Maya opts to trap Ren in a nearly bone-crushing hug, only remembering at the very last minute to not be so rough. “As Ren Amamiya, preferably. So like Yu said, don’t be a stranger— and try not to get into any world-shattering situations, either!”

 

This makes Ren chuckle a little bit, awkwardly returning the hug at first but eventually settling into it. “I’ll… I’ll certainly try.” Man, what he wouldn’t give to live a peaceful life after his adventurous year….

 

The journalist pulls away, satisfied with his answer. “Good. If you do happen to get into any jams like this past year’s, you know who to call!”

 

“Not Tatsuya,” Naoya huffs. “There’s a good chance that it’ll take him two times to get it right instead of one.”

 

“...I don’t have a good track record with these sorts of things,” Tatsuya admits. “Please don’t rely solely on me. Go to the Shadow Operatives or the Investigation Team."

 

“Or your own group, if you guys have to get back together,” Makoto adds. “You guys are kickass in action.” The boy uses this as an opportunity to step forwards and get his own goodbyes in, stepping up to be in front of Ren.For the first time, he weeps his long bangs back, revealing everything that it had once covered.

 

…!

 

Under the hair is not another eye with a matching color, but rather one with a vibrant yellow iris. 

 

“Your eye…!” Ren whispers.

 

“Oh, this?” Not surprisingly, Makoto doesn’t seem fazed at all, bringing up his hand to point at the eye in question. “I think it’s just because I’ve been the Seal for so long. Maybe I’m turning into a Velvet Room attendant— who knows? But I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.” His words are a cruel reminder of his fate, but he is doing nothing but taking it in stride. It makes Ren feel a little less bad when he goes to shake his hand. 

 

“It was nice meeting you, Makoto.” Ren chooses to not lament on the unchangeable past, instead facing the other young man with a smile. “And I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

 

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you as well.” Makoto places his other hand around Ren’s and gives it two confident shakes.

 

Finally, the Trickster comes to stand before Philemon, who regards him with the same bow as before. When he stands back upright however, his mask is in his hand, revealing his full face to everyone for the first time.

 

“May we meet again, Trickster,” comes Philemon’s sincere words. “And… Morgana is with you, correct? Send him my regards, if you will.”

 

“I—” Okay, so he knows about Morgana, too. “I will.”

 

The guests of the Velvet Room all stand around the table, watching with awe as pages from books start to flutter around them, slowly dissipating into blue butterflies.

 

“It’s always so calming in here,” Maya sighs with a content smile. “I almost sort of miss the days where we would have to come here often. Now I barely have time to stop by!”

 

“Work does get busy,” Yu concurs. “I haven’t stopped to see Margaret in quite a while, either. …Maybe I’ll pay her a visit once I get back to Inaba.”

 

Naoya catches a page fluttering in the air and flips it over, letting out an amused “hmph” at whatever it is he read before letting it catch in the wind again. “This place never ceases to remind me of the hope that humanity holds.”

 

“That might just be the best thing you’ve said so far,” Tatsuya hums, agreeing with Naoya for the second time within five minutes. That has to be a new record.

 

…Hold on, I never answered Naoya from earlier!

 

Ren had been so caught up in his head back when it was just him and Naoya on the stage that he had neglected to actually answer the proposition that was posed to him. Granted, it hadn’t been one that necessarily required an answer, but he feels that he at least owes him that much.

 

As the Velvet Room starts to dissipate in a sea of blue butterflies, Ren turns to Naoya. His gaze lingers down for a moment, before he grasps hold of some sort of hidden resolve. Slowly, he brings up his hand to his heart, where he holds up his index finger and mouths two words.

 

One day.

 

“...!”

 

The smile that Ren gets in return from Naoya is the best reassurance he could ask for.

 

~*

 

 

Gripped tightly in the palm of Ren’s hand when he awakens is an ornate translucent red key the size of a lemon slice, with a thin black chain woven the built-in loop on top. It appears long enough to be worn as a necklace, or at least some type of belt chain. 

 

Is this a key?

 

(It even has a miniature version of your mask from the Metaverse.)

 

Sure enough, there is a scaled-down replica of his mask as Joker, as well as a translucent blue butterfly charm on the othe side of the key and the mask. The butterfly is cool to the touch, while the replica of his mask emits a faint heat.

 

In Ren’s other hand are not one, but two envelopes. The first one is Yu’s, while the second one is a milky white, sealed with blue wax seal with an ornate butterfly pattern.

 

…A letter from the Velvet Room?

 

Curious, Ren sets Yu’s letter aside and opens the other one, being careful to keep the beautiful wax seal intact. Inside is a piece of paper with delicately crafted characters on it, making an ordinary letter almost become an art piece in his hands.

 

…Something about this screams Philemon.

 

(He does seem like the type.)

 

<Lavenza asked me to pass your key to the Velvet Room to you. She would have done it herself, but it ended up taking more time than she had anticipated since she wanted to add a more personal touch to it. Be it dream or reality or someplace in between, you will always be able to access the Velvet Room so long as you have this key.

 

<May you always possess the fortitude to forge the way to your future with an unwavering will.>

 

—P

“Hey, you’re awake!” 

 

Morgana peeks his head out of the bag, pawing at Ren’s arm. “Just in time, too. Did you have a nice nap?”

 

“Mhm.” Ren slides the letter back into its envelope to scratch the cat under his chin right as the train starts to slow down. “...Just in time, indeed.”

 

…

 

After a train switch and another hour, Ren finally arrives in Inaba. The small town is covered in a thin layer of mist when the train arrives, but it isn’t enough to block out the radiant sunset. Tokyo had become like a second home to him, but nothing could beat the brilliant twilight of the countryside. Many memories that had once been tucked away swim ever closer to the surface, inviting the young man to explore them once more…

 

“Gee, what a warm welcome,” Morgana snorts, effectively breaking the daydream Ren had floated into. There’s more than a trace of disappointment in his voice as he hops out of the bag onto the uninviting concrete of the train station. “This is home sweet home for you? No one waiting for you after a year?”

 

“They both work,” shrugs Ren, clearing his mind and engaging in reality. “But they should be home in an hour or so, if their hours haven’t changed. And I didn’t tell them that I would be coming back today.”

 

“You didn’t tell them?” Morgana freezes at that, and looks Ren up and down very carefully. “Ren… you do know that something like this is super important, right?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“...Is there something going on in your family life that warrants me telling everyone?”

 

“Meet them first, then draw your conclusion from there.”

 

A drawn-out fifteen minute walk later— made longer by the dropping off of Yu’s letter at the designated location— and Ren is finally at the doorstep to his home. A second wave of nostalgia hits him the moment he holds out the keys in front of him, inches away from slotting itself into the keyhole and unlocking the place he hasn’t stepped foot inside of for over a year.

 

“...”

 

The clicking of the light switch fills up the once-silent home, illuminating a house well-loved in a soft yellow glow.

 

“Well, the house is nice enough,” Morgana sniffs once he takes in enough of the main living area, though he still doesn’t quite appear to be satisfied. “But I dunno… I’m getting weird vibes, like maybe they’ve thrown all of your stuff in your room away or something.”

 

I doubt that...

 

Still, the murmur of uncertainty from within leads Ren to head upstairs to see what all had been changed in his room, only to find that it had been exactly as he had left it a year ago, down to the way the curtains were half-drawn and the way his prized leather-bound journal lay neatly closed on the desk.

 

“Oho…” Morgana purrs, his gaze already locked onto the journal whose contents had yet to grace his eyes. “Even the great Ren has some embarrassing secrets that he journals…”

 

“Not embarrassing," Ren corrects, picking up the journal and holding it high enough above his head to where the cat has absolutely no chance of getting it. “Some things are just meant for my eyes only. Would you really want me to tell everyone what I heard you mumbling one night back in June?”

 

Morgana absolutely balks at that. “You promised not to tell!”

 

“Trust is a mutual thing, Mona. You don’t look, I don’t tell.”

 

  And thus the current topic comes to an abrupt end. Ren gets most of his belongings— considerably more than what he had left home with— unpacked before going out to Junes to buy some ingredients for a certain dish. The urge to make some had been relentlessly nagging him ever since his… nap back on the train, and he’s not about to pass up the opportunity since both time and money are wholly on his side.

 

Everything about the store is pretty much as he remembers it from a year ago, with the exception of the tables and seats outside being newer. However, everything is organized the exact same way, so Ren is able to navigate through all of the relevant isles with ease and get in and out of the store within twenty minutes. The curry takes about another two hours to prepare and cook, a new record on Ren’s part for speed and efficiency. Ren’s effort is worth it, though— it only takes two hours to bring back the smell of Leblanc that he had already become homesick for.

 

Morgana flicks his tail, then starts pawing at Ren’s leg. “Come on, let me have some! You never let me have some!”

 

Way to interrupt someone’s fond reminiscing. “I added something a little different in there today; I don’t know what it’s going to do to your stomach.” Ren rolls his eyes when Morgana visibly pouts. “I don’t need my parents’ first impression of you being an image of you getting sick everywhere.”

 

Speaking of that… “I wonder how they’ll react to you. We’ve never had any pets before, and I forgot to mention them to you.”

 

“You didn’t even tell them about me?!” Morgana yelps so loud that Ren drops the ladle he had been washing back into the soapy water.

 

“Um… no?”

 

“Why wouldn’t you?” Morgana leaps up onto the counter glaring daggers at Ren. “Not all people are cat people, you know! You got lucky with Sojiro, but what if your parents hate cats? I don’t want them to kick me out!”

 

“I don’t think they’re gonna be mad. I just didn’t know how to—”

 

Just then, there is a faint clicking of the front door’s lock being turned.

 

“It smells really good inside!” comes a tired-sounding but vibrant female voice. “Who’s coo— oh!”

 

“Hm? What’s—” The male voice also stops when he steps inside, catching sight of the third person who has already made himself at home. Both Ren and Morgana freeze in place, staring with googly eyes as they stare at the two people who just walked in the door, who coincidentally also freeze up upon seeing the two. A really long and awkward staring contest ensues.

 

…Tell them.

 

(...Well, now. It looks like you will have all the time in the world to explain.)

 

“Um…” Ren somehow manages to break the silence first, putting the dish that he’s washing down to wave at his parents with a soap sud-covered hand. “...Surprise?”

 

There is the sound of a briefcase being dropped, and the sound of slightly muffled, shaky breathing; in the next moment two pairs of arms are wrapped snugly around Ren.

 

“You didn’t tell us you were coming back today!” Ren’s mom pulls away first, cupping her son’s face in her hands to look at his year-aged face.

 

“Well, I… wanted it to be a surprise.” Ren cutely blushes and averts his eyes. “
“…Were you surprised?”

 

“Pleasently,” answers his dad, which only serves to swell the balloon of pride in Ren’s chest.

 

“Oho… So these are your parents…” Morgana purrs. “I see…”

 

Someone forgot he could be heard, even if he couldn’t be understood. Ren’s parents follow their son’s exasperated gaze to Morgana, who had tried to retreat to Ren’s bag but had only managed to get one paw in.

 

“Is… that a cat?” Ren’s dad asks first, pointing at the small feline who looks like he would rather be anywhere else

 

“Oh, yeah.” Ren bends down to scoop up a still-flabbergasted Morgana up into his arms. “This is Morgana.. He’s very smart.” Jostling the cat a little, he holds him up a little higher. “Say hi, Mona.”

 

“...Mrrow.”

 

Ren’s mom clearly adores the cat from the way she smiles the moment he makes a sound. “Oh, it’s like he actually said hi!”

 

Morgana and Ren give each other a sheepish smile. Oh, if only she knows how right she is…

 

“He is cute…” Ren’s dad agrees. 

 

“Do you want to hold him?” It’s been a while, but he’s learned to figure out at least some of the little hidden messages his parents would sometimes send.

 

“What?! Wait, I’m not some— some household pet!”

 

Well right now, you kind of are…

 

“Are you sure he wants to be held? He seems a little…”

 

“He just likes to complain at first,” Ren holds out Morgana towards his dad. “Once he gets comfortable, he’s really sweet.”

 

“Quit trying to butter me up…” grumbles Morgana, but he doesn’t voice any more protests once he’s in the arms of Ren’s father.

 

“...” Ren’s dad almost seems to not know what to do with Morgana, so he just ends up cradling him in his arms like a baby. “Hey, there.”

 

Ren goes to boop Morgana on the nose. “He’s a little spoiled, but he is indeed cute, but if you scratch him under his chin, he’ll start purring.”

 

“...Like this?”

 

“Mrrow…!”

 

“Yep. See, look at that. Not so feisty anymore, now are you?”

 

“Mrrrrooww…”

 

(While this is entertaining to watch… are you not going to tell them about your record?)

 

…Shoot!

 

How does one say it without it being an absolute bombshell?

 

(Simply.)

 

Well, that wouldn’t be right! They’ve supported me the whole time.

 

“Um…” Ren clears his throat. “I got my conviction overturned last month. My record’s clean.”

 

…Ren is met with round two of shock plus hugs.

 

“You did??” Ren’s mom barely contains her joy “Ren, that’s amazing!”

 

“That really is incredible.” Though his dad shows a lot more restraint, it is clear that he is also very happy for him. “How did you manage it?”

 

Ren beams, thinking about all of the people that had helped him throughout his year in Tokyo and made what should have been a miserable experience arguably one of the best ones in his whole life so far. “I had a lot of people help me in Tokyo, you guys wouldn’t believe it…”

 

As everyone migrates to the small living room couch to catch up on a year of each other’s lives that they missed, Ren can’t stave off the wide smile that blooms from the very depths of his soul and blooms onto his face. Morgana mumbles something along the lines of “My mistake for ever doubting you…”, to which Ren merely flashes the cat a grin in return.

 

One day, Ren will work up the nerve to tell everyone about everything. Hopefully that day will be sooner than later so he doesn’t have to bear the weight of it all for so long, but it has to be the right moment— otherwise, it will only bring up more questions and resolve nothing.

 

(You need not worry— the day shall come.)

 

And just like that, the prison that once held Ren’s fate in a sea of red burns into ashes of the past that will spring forth a blooming life for the future.

Notes:

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT I'M DONE OMG OH MY GOSH HOLY GUACAMOLEEEEEEEEEEE

I literally never really complete things, especially not something that's 50k+ words so this is actually amazing

FInal yap time!

Firstly, I'm sorry (again) that this took so long! This was by FAR the hardest chapter to write, for the sheer fact I had to make all of the characters interact with each other in a way that would be at least somewhat in character for them, and for the fact that there was so much that I wanted to explore that I was having a lot of trouble tying up all of the loose ends. (I also wanted to give Naoya a serious moment, and writing that scene for it not to be an absolute word salad or a generic nightmare was SO HARD oh my gosh) But I also didn't want to half-ass it just to get a chapter out, since that wouldn't be fair to you guys as the readers after you've already read 40k words before this :(

Despite all of that, I really enjoyed writing this...I especially enjoyed all of the comments and kudos I've gotten! Seriously, seeing people actually like my silly little takes and ideas brings me so much joy and whimsy. They've been my motivation the entire course of writing this, and I've thought about them constantly while writing this. I even got to yapping with one of my friends by showing them some of the comments and just gushing over how joyous they make me :D

Speaking of, 200 kudos?! oh my goodnessI think it hit it the morning of my move-ind day and my golly gee what a great feeling that was. So thank youuuuuu :D so much joy and whimsy has been brought to my world because of this story and I am forever grateful! It seems a bit dramatic to say, but I definitely believe it!

While this is the end of this story, I will continue to write! Time however, is not at all on my side, so any updates, whether it's new works or existing ones, may take a bit. (that's not too much different than before, is it ;-;)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of rule-makers and fate-breakers